


Little Talks

by TruebornAlpha



Series: Homeward Bound [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of dialogue, M/M, Teen Wolf AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:13:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the incident in the hospital, Scott and Stiles need to talk out their issues and start finding a way to build a future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Talks

Scott had used up what little trust he’d earned. His little stunt during the interrogation had shown he was still unstable and now they worried he’d try to hurt himself again. The wolf didn’t bother arguing, he’d screwed up and he knew it. He was lucky that they hadn’t kept him strapped down longer than they did, though they’d adjusted his medication to keep him calm and help prevent him from shifting. He complied without complaint, too tired to fight against them anymore. He couldn’t even kill himself, there was no way out of here.

Well, maybe one.

He didn’t know what to think about Stiles, memories of the medical ward unfocused like they happened in a dream, but his skin burned feverishly whenever he tried to sort through the images. Scott closed his eyes, imagining those long skilled fingers wrapped around himself, stroking, _demanding_ that he surrender. He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders and trying to stretch taut muscles. Whatever had happened, his body had healed more rapidly than he could remember and Scott was left with restless dreams and wandering hands, seeking relief.

They’d released him back to his room once his wounds had closed, but no one but Doctor Tate came to talk to him. She was quiet, slowly walking him through his suicide attempt and trying to unravel the knots in his head that Peter had left behind. Scott wasn’t sure she was helping or if he trusted her, but he was slowly opening up to her calm, constant, gentle efforts. She refused to say anything about Stiles no matter how often he asked, deftly steering the conversation back to Scott.

“Am I ever going to be okay?”

The doctor had given him reassurances about his progress, promising that they’d keep working through his problems until he found his control again but she couldn’t give him any sort of real answer. Scott burned off his irritation by pacing, nothing much to do while he was still locked down in his room. The soft sunlight slanted through the narrow window, teasing him. Would they ever let him outside again? He missed the feel of grass under bare feet and those few moments of happiness he’d managed before the wolf got in the way like always. Scott sighed and lay in the slim sunbeam like he always did, a habit picked up over the years when the sight of real sunlight was rare. He closed his eyes to try and imagine the feeling of a breeze on his skin.

___

There were a lot of magic sex jokes that Stiles wasn’t making, and that in itself was a tragedy. The deja vu was overwhelming, but he found himself loitering in front of Scott’s room once more, after a thorough briefing of updated security measures and strict orders to not - mess this up. Stiles would do anything to live up to those orders.

Scott had still been out of it when Stiles had left earlier that morning, trying to salvage a job he couldn’t believe he still had. He’d broken protocol more times than he cared to count, and part of him wondered how long it would take for him to be relocated to the unemployment line. The rest of him decided not to care. The work he churned out lessened, but what he completed was golden. It wasn’t a question of if Hale was going to get charged, or even who else he’d drag through the mud, but what he was going to get charged with. Stiles was doing everything in his power to make sure whatever it was, it landed him the death sentence - just not always.

He was on an extended lunch break that no one, himself included, believed he’d return from, and maybe if he occupied himself with thinking about all the ways he’d fucked up as a cop, he’d be excused from all the ways he’d fucked up as a human being.

Scott had reached out when he pulled away. Stiles still couldn’t get that off his mind. Then he thought about the way Scott said ‘please.’

He let himself in, careful to stay behind the line of mountain ash he was specifically warned against disturbing. He wanted Scott to rest. He still called out, “Do you want me to go?”

And goddamn, if didn’t work as well this time, he didn’t know what he’d do.

___

Scott knew him by the sound of his footsteps, keeping his eyes closed as he basked in the sliver of light and smiled. He always came back, it was getting to be a constant. At least it was something he could rely on. “Would it make any difference if I did? I keep saying it and it never seems to stick, why would it be any different this time?” He stretched carefully, newly healed muscles still a little sore but barely noticeable before sitting up cross-legged to watch the human. Scott didn’t look upset or angry, just calm and illuminated by the sun like the light was a second skin. “I promised you, right? I told you I’d let you say. I remember that much.”

_I remember a lot more than that._

"Stop looking at me like that." The wolf gave a small shake of his head, smile slipping just a little. "I’m not going to hurt myself again. It was…I made a mistake. I’m okay, Stiles, please don’t worry." He hesitated, fingers plucking at his sweat pants. "Are you okay? I’m sorry about what happened with the case stuff…is that why you’re here?" Scott’s expression turned wary as he noticed Stiles kept himself behind the line of mountain ash. Okay…that was fair. He was unpredictable and violent, he’d been warning Stiles about it this whole time. Nothing wrong with him finally being careful. "I’m sorry."

___

"I figured maybe it was time I started listening to you," Stiles tried to shrug off, but his tone was a caricature of nonchalance that the rest of him wanted nothing to do with. Concern was plain on his features, and he wanted to be right there, on that bed, pressed so close to Scott that neither of them could move without the other feeling it. He only stepped across the barrier when Scott smiled.

God, he looked good. Sunshine kissed his hair and shoulders, and Stiles hadn’t forgotten how good it felt to kiss him. He still wanted another reminder. He wanted another ten.

A strangled laugh escaped him, twisting under the weight of a huff, and he asked, “Do you remember that time - with the lacrosse ball and the glass table? You were bleeding like a stuck pig, and you still apologized?” Stiles shook his head, and conceded that his self-control was nowhere near as good as he wanted it to be. His knees bumped against the edge of the bed, and he thought about running his hands through Scott’s hair. “I told myself I’d break you out of that habit… Didn’t really get to.”

He stretched out his hand, asking to hold Scott. It was probably a first, but his eyes lingered on Scott’s chest, where his injuries would have hidden beneath his clothes if they’d still been there. “But _yeah_ \- I’m good. How’s hospital boy doing?”

___

"It was because I didn’t want you to worry. You had this look on your face like you were going to throw up, Stiles. It was my fault for letting us play in the house after my mom said no and I couldn’t stand for you to be so scared. I hate it when you look like that." Scott paused, looking at the outstretched hand before wrapping his own hands around it and bringing it to his cheek to nuzzle against Stiles’s palm. They had never been this careful with each other, Stiles must really be shaken. Either that, or Doctor Tate had lost her temper with how they kept violating Eichen House’s rules.

"I’m okay. They changed my medication and there’s two wolves posted outside the door in case I try anything, I can smell them. No straps though, I guess that’s a positive sign…or they think it’s a lost cause. I can’t really tell anymore. The Doctor seems optimistic, but she won’t answer any of my questions that might give her away if she was lying." Scott pressed his lips into a thin line, shrugging his shoulders. "I think I’ve picked up a lot of bad habits that I need to break."

Scott pulled on the hand, settling back on the bed and hoping Stiles would join him. He could be just as careful and slow, brown eyes questioning.  _Is this okay? Do you want this?_ “I’m okay though, I mean it., I’m all healed and everything, I’ve healed way worse than that before.” He winced, hoping that fact wouldn’t make his friend’s already worried expression get worse.

"I don’t know what they’re going to do with me now. They’re worried I’m going to hurt myself or someone else. I’m not sure if they’re going to keep me in this room forever or if I still have a shot of making it out of here someday. I…I kind of blew it, dude."

___

Stiles didn’t want to be careful. He wanted to push and push and take until everything fell apart, and Scott had nothing left to give, but Stiles would keep him from falling. Stiles would always catch him. He traced the curve of Scott’s jaw, urging him to raise his head, bare his throat, and Stiles kissed him like he needed Scott more than air. His fingers skittered over his werewolf’s pulse, grazing the slope of his Adam’s apple, then he covered Scott with his body, gently pressing him into the mattress. He wanted to ask for permission. But Scott wasn’t pushing him away, and everything fell into place like they were built for one another.

"Seeing you hurt’s one of the worst things in the world for me," he whispered. His arms snaked around Scott’s waist, and this wasn’t how he planned this. Scott was so warm. One day, Stiles was going to destroy the people who told Scott that getting hurt was okay. Stiles might have been one of them. Barely more than a hush, he pleaded, "Y’should take better care of yourself…"

Stiles wanted to feed Scott at least three pizzas, and the new and improved Twinkie bar. They’d get there. Eventually.

"And trust me, man - the cops haven’t been called in yet. You’re still doing good," Stiles huffed, but his heart somersaulted in his chest. He wanted to tell Scott stories about the things he’d heard here, reassurances of the least tactful variety. He realized he didn’t want to inspire him. 

Their noses brushed. Stiles kissed him again, because he could. Stiles let their silences linger, almost guilty for having to break them. “The last time you wanted me to go… You were afraid for me.”

___

Scott smiled, eyes fluttering closed as the human’s fingers moved down his throat, tipping his head back to give Stiles better access. He didn’t hesitate to surrender, trusting his friend absolutely and sighed happily. This was nice, everything was calm for once and Scott refused to dwell on the fact their peace rarely lasted. “I’m still afraid for you. I’m always going to be afraid for you.” The wolf wrapped his body around his friend, tangling their legs together and letting careful hands trace down Stiles’s chest.

"You think you’re the only one who feels that way, dude? If you got hurt, seriously hurt, I don’t know what I would do. I can heal from all of this, you can’t. If I lose control…when I lose control, and we both know I will, what am I going to do if I’m the one who hurts you?"

He was still calm, content to just lie here and wait. Stiles was safe for now, Scott was still in control and the wolf was quiet. The scent of the human’s skin promised safety and he was more than willing to give in to it. “But it doesn’t matter does it?” He murmured quietly, nuzzling into his friend’s collarbone. “You never listen to reason, you’re not afraid of me. Every time I’ve lost it, you never ran. You took me down like it was nothing, hell, you tried to hold me with your hands when I could have broken every part of you. You bring me down to my knees like it’s easy. You’re not that boy I knew, you’re stronger and I never trusted the fact you knew what you were doing. I’m sorry.”

___

"Hey…" Stiles protested, but mildly. His fingers caught Scott under his jaw, urging him to look up at him, and he kissed him. If Stiles had to start every sentence like that for the rest of his life, he wouldn’t complain. Well - he’d probably get tired of saying ‘hey’ after a while, but that hardly counted. "Just because you heal doesn’t mean you should get hurt." 

He wondered if anyone had ever told Scott that. Melissa might have. Melissa had been gone for a long time. He wondered if Scott was capable of believing that now.

"I love you," he insisted, and he didn’t know who needed to hear it more. "We can… Work with things - even if you forgot that I’m a total badass." Stiles leaned closer, pressing a kiss along Scott’s cheek, like it had been too long since he’d felt him. They should have been making up time, not - not what happened for 38 days.

"I’m licensed to carry mountain ash, Class 2." He didn’t quite brag. It was still nice to have that piece of paper. "I’ll do that. I’m good with it, Scott… I - can’t bring weapons in here, not as a civie, but I can stop spending nights here, if you think it’ll help. Distance and defense and shit."

For all that he attempted nonchalance, Stiles’ face gave away how much he disliked that option. They just needed their cards on the table. “And you laughed, but that safe word thing? It could work. If we’re getting into something, or someone says something that’s not right or just you wanna stop talking or you think I should back off. Just say it, and like - we’ll break. Just for a bit.”

___

“Total badass” Scott agreed with a smile, almost preening under his friend’s gentle reassurances.  This is what he remembered from being a kid, the way they’d carry each other when one was in pain. They kept each other standing when the world was ripped out from under them. He could almost believe that they had a chance when Stiles made promises like this.

His friend _was_ dangerous, more than he knew. Scott never considered what kind of training he must have had. Stiles tracked lycanthropes for his job, he must have come face to face with all kinds of feral weres over the years and he was still in one piece. He’d never showed fear and had been willing to stun and tranquilize him whenever Scott lost control, he could do whatever was necessary to protect himself.

“I don’t want you to go.” Scott buried his face into his human’s chest, a sudden flare of panic at the thought of Stiles actually leaving. “Would it help? I don’t know what to do, dude. I don’t know how to stop. I don’t remember how to be anything else anymore, what if I can’t be human again? I…I’m a killer, Stiles, that’s what he made me into. He trained me like an animal, he treated me like one for _seven years_. What if I’m never going to be okay? What are they going to do with me if they realize they can’t fix me?”

He was silent for a moment, taking a shuddering breath to try and pull back the fear that started to bleed through his control. “Maybe a word would help…I don’t know anything else to try. I just don’t want to hurt you and I can’t promise I won’t try if I lose control.”

___

Stiles tightened his grip, and maybe there lay the problem. When Scott tried to pull away, all he did was push harder, and he didn’t know how to distinguish between when that was a good thing and when it wasn’t, not with Scott. With Scott, he couldn’t believe that any time they were together wasn’t a good thing. One of them was going to get hurt.

So far, it had been Scott. Stiles thought about ripping Hale’s throat out.

"If they can’t help… Then we’ll live with it. You and me - and we’ll make it better. We’ll find a better." Stiles had forgiven him before he’d finished speaking. He ran his fingers through Scott’s hair, and wondered if he already knew. It didn’t matter. Scott could burn the world to the ground, and Stiles would forgive him with his last breathe. It was Scott. Nothing else mattered.

"You’n’me, dude? It’s what we do. We make things awesome." He tried to joke. It came out dry, but he clung to Scott like a lifeline. He wasn’t sure who needed it more.

"I’ll stay." He promised. "I’ve got - I’ll stay. I’ll figure it out… We can do the word, try it at least. Y’know? It wouldn’t hurt. I should… Dr. Tate suggested I sit in on some of your sessions, when you wanted me to. If you wanted me to."

___

Scott made a quiet noise of frustration, capturing Stiles’s mouth with his own and twining their fingers together. He’d gotten used to being an animal, after so many years it was easy to just give Peter what he wanted. Trying to be something different was terrifying. “I want to be human again, dude. I want a freaking normal life. I don’t want to kill anymore.”

Stiles sounded so confident and the wolf couldn’t help but smile. That optimism was supposed to be his thing. He’d always been the one to look on the bright side no matter how terrible things had gotten or how hard Stiles had snarked at it. “You’n’me were never awesome, dude. I hate to break it to, but we were unpopular dorks. I think we might have been cursed.” He hesitated before giving one quick nod. “If you think it’ll help, I’m willing to try anything. I don’t want to live with it, I want to get better. I have a reason to now.”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted Stiles to come to his sessions, still uncomfortable with the human knowing so much about what he’d done over the years. If Stiles started to look at him differently, if he was disgusted or horrified…Scott couldn’t bear it.

“Tell me about your life, Stiles. Tell me what it’s like out there now. I just want to hear you say it like it’s something we can actually have.”

____

"We? Excuse you, dude. You scarlet nerded me," Stiles huffed, but it sounded like an excuse, a prelude to nuzzling against his partner’s side, slowly kissing his way down Scott’s throat, as far as he could reach before making the return trip. "Could’ve totally ruled the roost if I wanted to."

He wouldn’t have wanted to without Scott. Nothing mattered without Scott.

"And that - session thing. It’s only if you want it, Scott, doesn’t have  to be now, doesn’t have to be ever. Just…" He waved a hand in the air, but that took him away from touching Scott. With a throaty huff, struggling to get his thoughts in order, Stiles curled into his werewolf’s grip, burying himself in the feel of Scott’s skin against his. He carded his fingers through Scott’s hair, and Stiles would be the first to admit that he didn’t know who he was trying to comfort.

"You know… I started eating Hawaiian pizza after you went, dude. That shitty weird - fruit’s not s’pose to go on a pizza; tomatoes don’t count. But you liked it, and I just… I missed you. So I ate really shitty pizza. But there’s a new place that opened on Greenwood. A Chicago Pizza place… Not a Chicago-style pizzeria, but a legit, actual, Chicago-ian Pizza place…

It’s things like that, Scott. Little, dumbass things when… I wanted to share things with you.” He huffed incredulously. “Dude, d’you know how much DC’s been sucking for a while now? I think you’d like Captain America. I want to take you to so many movies.”

____

He laughed, stress bleeding from his body. “I hate to burst your bubble there, dude, but it wasn’t just me. Blame me all you want, but I think we know I was the coolest one. At least I didn’t have a thing for Princess Leia or whatever her name is. Face it, you’re the weird one. You were too smart and too nerdy.” Scott pulled on Stiles’s fingers and pressed them to his lips. “It was just you and me, we didn’t need anybody else and that suited me just fine.” What would their lives have been like if all of this werewolf mess hadn’t gotten in the way. Would they have fallen in love with someone else? Would they have ever made other friends? Would they have ever gotten better at lacrosse or calculus? Would have have made it into the same college and lived together and loved for all those years…so much wasted time.

Scott wrapped his arm low around his friend’s waist and fit his body so perfectly against him that it felt they’d been made as one piece. “If you think it’ll help, I will. Just promise me that you’ll be able to forgive me for things, Stiles. You still see _me_ , I don’t want to ever lose that.”

He was immediately (and predictably) distracted by the mention of food, groaning and burying his face into his friend’s side. “Duuude, totally unfair. Spicy Hawaiian pizza is literally the best thing on earth, you’re so wrong and I don’t know how we can even be together. I swear to god, Stiles, if you can get me some, I will do literally _anything_ to you that you want. I can’t even remember the last time I actually had pizza. Screw you, I’ll get through this rehab stuff just to get an actual slice again.” Scott said, poking a finger in Stiles’s ribs.

"Wait, there’s a Captain America movie? Oh man, I’ve missed so much. I want all of that, every little dumbass thing. I feel like…I don’t know. Lost? Where do I even start with all this real world stuff?"

___

"Princess Leia is a  _goddess,_  don’t you dare-!” Stiles defended, all wide-eyed indignation. He’d once prepared Scott a 78 slide powerpoint presentation, introducing him to a world much better

than their own in a galaxy far, far away. Besides, if Finstock had actually wanted him to do his homework, he’d have put him on first string, probably.

Nothing had changed. Stiles was still hopelessly fond of beautiful men with no taste in cinema. He kissed Scott because he could. Then he kissed him again, because he wanted to.

"Heathen," he whispered as he pulled away, trying to squirm out of Scott’s grip while actually pushing himself closer. It was a lost cause, but Stiles figured if he was going to go down swinging, this would be the best strategy. "All I’ll ever see is the jerk who steals my fries and wanted to buy a motorcycle with his job money."

Stiles remembered how pissed he’d been the first time he’d heard that idea. His exact words were, ‘What, is Roscoe not good enough for you anymore?’ And then Scott let him win a round of GTA, so everything squared away nicely. 

"My dad wants to see you," he whispered at length, squirming so his leg was trapped between Scott’s thighs. "Not now, but… Some day. Eventually. Is that cool? He’s glad you’re back, too, dude.

And maybe he understood better than Stiles did what it meant to survive tragedy. “And there are two Cap movies. He did Superman better than Superman, which is just - so friggin’ wrong.”

___

"You’re the one who steals my fries, you thief, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting a motorcycle. I got to ride one in Arizona once and race it in the desert. You don’t have any idea how cool it is." Scott smiled at the memory, one he hadn’t thought about in years. He and this girl, what was her name again, had met in one of the motels he and his mom had lived out of for awhile. They’d "borrowed" the bike from her boyfriend, leaving without telling anyone for a day of stolen freedom when he could just get away from always having to hide and pretend that there wasn’t anything wrong with him. It had been perfect, racing down empty desert highways as fast as they could, her body pressed tight against his back and laughing at the reckless thrill.

He’d loved her that day, always too quick to give away his heart. He had confessed everything because he trusted her. The hunters came two days later.

Scott wrapped his legs around Stiles’s, possessive and unapologetic, quiet for a long moment. The sheriff had been almost like his Dad since his real one had left when he was little. He’d almost though his mom had…no, can’t think about that. “How is he? He knows what I am and he’s okay with it?” It was a weird thought that there might be someone out there still that he’d consider family.

"I’ll need you to make a list of all the things I’ll need to watch to catch up on everything, dude. You’ll have to help me with all of it…and learn how to appreciate good food."

___

There was something in Scott’s smile that Stiles wanted to preserve forever. He hadn’t seen Scott look like that in a long time. It was so rare when it shouldn’t have been. Of all the callous, willfully ignorant, hurtful people in the world, he would never forgive how this much hardship could have fallen to one of its genuinely good people. He’d ask about Arizona next time. Hopefully Stiles would be brave enough by then.

"I told him when we first - the first time you were here." Stiles murmured, nuzzling into Scott’s hair. His ears were distracting. They felt good underneath his fingertips, and Scott squirmed when he did it too long. He wondered if the werewolf even noticed. Stiles wanted to be distracted. He laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "He said he’d suspected… Apparently, I’m not a subtle dude. Who knew?"

He cleared his throat. “I don’t think he has a problem with it… And if he did, he wouldn’t be my dad.”

Scott had to know whose corner Stiles would be in. Stiles liked to think it would be the same against any opponent. “Please dude, I’ve already got a list in the making. Number three is ‘teach Scott to pizza.’”

___

“He is a sheriff, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Scott traced his fingertip across his human’s mouth, endlessly fascinated even without the aid of medication. “You get it from somewhere, dude. You have to figure everything out, unravel all the little mysteries. You’ve basically turned into him, you know. Just a thousand times less cool and you’re as subtle as a bulldozer. That’s okay though…I think I need a little straight forward in my life.”

Scott’s hands were never still, gentle caring touches that ghosted warm fingertips over every inch of exposed skin. He wanted to know ever inch, catalogue all the pieces that had changed and everything that stayed to same, committing every freckle, every vein, every small scar and callous to memory. _This was real_. He had to remind himself of that fact. This wasn’t Peter’s manipulations or a dream or a trick, these were real hands and radiating warmth and peace.

He could do this. He _had_ to do this.

“I think I need to teach you to pizza a whole lot more. If that’s number three, what’s one and two? You’ve got to share the info now, I’m curious. What exactly do you want to do first?”

___

Scott touched him like he thought he would break, or worse, like he’d go away. Stiles wasn’t going to let that happen. He nipped at Scott’s fingers, teasing their tips with the quick poke of tongue, squirming his way into the other man’s grasp until Scott had no choice but to wrap his arms around him or have them bend in horribly uncomfortable angles. 

He was beaming though, proud of that compliment. It hit somewhere deep, left him warm instead of smug. “Dude, I’m at least as subtle as a chainsaw, don’t even.”

He pressed a kiss close, sucking hard on the plush swell of Scott’s mouth, making a space for himself past his petal lips.  _I’m here. I’m never going anywhere._ He’d made the promise a long time ago, but the follow through never scared him. There were many things on earth that did, but a lifetime with his best friend was practically written in the stars. Life achieved - the only thing that would make it more perfect was if Stiles got the chance to play Batman with an actual cape.

"Maybe I should put in ‘teach Scott to pizza’ twice, work that snark out of your system," Stiles huffed, turning his nose up in a guise he couldn’t carry. He kissed the tip of Scott’s nose. And Scott was smiling, so he could, too. "Well, I promised this guy that I’d Star Wars marathon with him, so that’s number 2… Number 1’s a therapy thing, actually. Y’know, help you adjust and all that, get that big bad wolf focused."

Drama was in the pauses and pacing of a delivery, not its content. Stiles thought that this time around, his content was pretty solid, though. “We should have sex. Like. A lot… Of sex.”

___

Scott wrapped his entire body around Stiles, holding him close and claiming him. _This one is mine, he’s always been mine. No one else can have him._ His wolf was calm and satisfied as he rubbed his cheek against the human’s skin to mark his scent. “You’re the subtlest chainsaw I know, Stiles.” He said, serious expression on his face and compliments deadpanned.

He sighed happily into Stiles’s mouth, distracted from any worries by the way he could lick inside of him. This whole side of things was only weeks old but it felt like they’d been made to kiss, made to slot their hips together perfectly. How in the world had they kept their hands off each other as teenagers? All he remembered was a lot of awkward day dreaming, content at the time to just be best friends. There hadn’t been any questioning when they’d met each other again, like the line between friends and lovers had never existed at all.

If Stiles believed in him, then he had the strength to try. He’d screwed up badly and it would take a while to earn back the trust of the hospital and prove he wasn’t a threat to himself, but he wanted this future. No more lying or pretending that things could stay the same, as much as he wanted to believe that they could just stay tangled up in each other away from the world, it wasn’t true. The only way they could ever have a future was to face the truth and work through it together.  

“Okay. Get better enough to leave, watch Star Wars finally and try not to make fun of your thing for slave women in metal bikinis, teach _you_ how to pizza because you’re so wrong there’s not a word for it, and things four through twenty on the list are sex. Basically, this is what you’re telling me, right?” Scott snorted, chuckling into Stiles’s arm. “Some of that sounds easier than others, but I’m willing to try. And have _lots_ of sex. Were you always like this, cuz I’m pretty sure we should have been making out all the time in school, dude. What the hell was I even thinking? Your fuzzy head was pretty freaking cute back then.”

___

Stiles grinned like he had reason to, and dropped a smacking kiss on Scott’s cheek. He was pretty proud of it, too.

"Hey, I’m still pretty fucking cute, dude," he defended, running a hand through locks that hadn’t seen a barber since his best friend had returned to Beacon Hills. Stiles had so much more to worry about. "And when you put it like that, kinda makes me want to bump 4-20 to the number one spot. I mean, have you seen the guy I’m dating? He kinda demands it."

Nipping at Scott’s mouth, he huffed, “You’re not complainin’bout my werewolf kink.”

He’d heard that in a bad porno once. That was proof that porn was educational.

Stiles’ expression still softened, twisting into something worryingly fond as he walked his fingers down Scott’s jaw. He tried to catch the moles on his neck, tried to connect them with his fingertips, and knew he needed more time. They needed all the time in the world. “About… Scott, last night - I should have been more careful about that. I shouldn’t have… That’s the sorta thing you clear with someone before you do.”

___

“Mmm” Scott ruffled his hands through Stiles’s hair, leaving the entire thing a mess and sticking out at odd angles. “I dunno, you haven’t seen the guy _I’m_ dating, dude.  We definitely need to bump up the sex part. We have a lot of time to make up for and there’s so many things I need to learn about you.  I might need more numbers on that list to get to them all.”

He rubbed his hips teasingly against Stiles’s leg trapped between his own. “Werewolf kink? Is that a thing that people have?” Scott couldn’t imagine, but he grinned and rubbed his nose against his human’s face, letting his eyes flash red. “You really do like to live dangerous, don’t you? Fangs and claws, man, remember? I don’t care if you said you’d trust me with claws on your dick, I’m not risking it.”

Scott caught Stiles’s face between his hands and kissed him, resting their foreheads together. “It’s okay, I’m okay with it. Kinda wish everything was a little bit clearer so I could remember all the details more, but I trust you, Stiles. I know you won’t hurt me and if I needed to tell you no, you’d actually listen to me.  I can’t…you don’t know what that means to me.”

___

Stiles sighed as if all the tension in his bones had drained out of him. It was horrible, how much they’d forced him through, how something so trivial could mean so much to Scott, but Scott was here now, in his arms, and so wonderful and all his. Stiles just needed to repeat that. 

Scott was still a smarmy little shithead, and fuck, Stiles was so in love it hurt. 

"Don’t do that, dude. I’ll go auto-boner when you go all red-eyed. It’s bad enough as it is." He scoffed, shoving his hand at Scott’s face but not for long. It took him away from Scott’s mouth, and Stiles was realizing it was much easier to breathe when he could steal the air straight from his werewolf’s lungs. "Hated lacrosse practice with you sometimes. When you were doing your thing, the push ups, the stretches, the falling on the ground and having an asthma attack, it was just so sexy."

He ruffled his own hair, making sure the style - or lack thereof - stayed. “I wanna make you feel good,” Stiles had no problem confessing. “I… You like talking, man? In bed. I kind of. _Shit_. I really, really like when you’re covered in my stuff.”

___

He laughed, catching Stiles’s hand and licking the palm. “One little flicker and it goes straight to your dick, bro? Good to know, I might have to file that away for later use.” Scott said, really only half-kidding. “Kinda nice to know exactly what turns you into a horny mess. You never know when that kind of information will come in handy.”

Scott rolled his eyes, giving his friend  _the look_ that hadn’t changed even after so many years apart. “Oh yeah, super sexy me gasping for air like a freaking goldfish, man. Nothing’s hotter than a guy running around wheezing for his inhaler. You know, I haven’t had to use it since the first time I actually shifted. I guess the furry monster stuff has a couple of upsides. But you don’t get to say anything, you’ve always done that thing with your mouth, I don’t know if you have any idea you’re even doing it but  _fuck_ , Stiles. You ever think we’d have actually been any good at lacrosse? If I stayed, I bet we could have cleaned up when I hit the wolf stage. We might have been popular for once.”

It was strange to think about all the what-ifs their lives could have had if he’d stayed or if he’d been human or if he could have ever come back home someday. It didn’t matter, he could let go and move on or at least figure out how with a little help. He could get through this, the prize at the end was worth it.

The wolf opened his mouth to speak, snapping it shut again as he grinned. “Yeah, I noticed.” He managed to say after a beat. “I liked it. I mean, I really liked it, dude. I had no idea you kept all that bottled up inside, filters aren’t really your style. And you don’t even understand what it does to me when our scents mix like that. You can’t tell, but they all know.” He gestured vaguely towards the door. “They know I’m yours and you’re mine and it’s…it’s so fucking good.”

___

"Groooss," he intoned, conveniently forgetting everything else he’d done to Scott’s hands when they were tangled in one another. Stiles made a face, features twisting in exaggerated annoyance. It faded into something helplessly fond as Scott continued speaking, and Stiles couldn’t glare at him if he tried, not right then (give it a few minutes; everyone had that refractory period crap). "Always yours, Scott. Always."

He laughed, low in his throat, a husky rumble of unabashed contentment. Everywhere they touched felt like his nerves were singed raw, and it would have been so easy for Scott to start a fire. “The first time, dude… The first time I had a dream about you, it freaked me out so bad I started bawling. I thought you’d be so pissed - ‘course, I told my dad that Cedric died, and really? Do you guys think I’m that invested in that sorta thing?”

It wasn’t like Cedric was Jason Todd. Now there was a tragedy.

He shook his head, coaxing Scott into a kiss, then another, then another. “Fuck high school. We were so much better than all those turds. I thought about you so much in college. Because then I knew, I _knew_  you weren’t just… Away. I wanted you to be my first everything. I thought about living with you, smoking with you. Thought about late nights and all the stuff you’d be good at, and while I was doing Criminology, you’d be doing Biology, and I’d get jealous of all the hot nurses who hung around you.”

Those years were a blur, with too many books and too much caffeine that wrecked havoc on his system. Stiles had flunked out of two classes as he figured out the most effective way to run himself to the ground. He’d taken as many summer classes as he could. Every event that postponed graduation infuriated him. He had a Goal. He had a Purpose.

Now he had Scott, and he couldn’t fathom how he survived so long without him. 

___

Scott’s crooked grin took on an incredulous quirk, one eyebrow raised. “Soooo gross?” The wolf hesitated, taken aback by the promise. _Always yours_. He swallowed hard, heart stuttering over the words and slightly shaken. Stiles had said the same before, but it hit hard now like he was finally vulnerable to it. Always. There might actually be an always. Not just dreams and fantasies, no stolen nights where they pretended he wasn’t as broken and dangerous as he was, but a real shot at a future. A real always. Stiles just assumed he’d get better and it would all fall into place somehow, like there wasn’t a doubt in his mind.

Scott was terrified. He’d never wanted anything so much in his life.

“I used to dream about you while we were on the road. I kept this notebook of all the things I had to remember to tell you when I made it back home. There wasn’t really anyone to talk to except Mom and I knew you’d have a thousand snarky things to say about everything. It wasn’t like I didn’t notice before I left but once I lost you, dude…I used to think about you a lot. After, you know, I almost started to believe I made you up. I should have known better, I wouldn’t have dreamed up anyone so nerdy.”

His hands twisted themselves into the fabric of Stiles’s shirt, trying to imagine himself in college. He used to want to go, back before the hunters. He remembered arguing with his mom about it over and over. Scott had always been so cavalier, so sure they’d been careful and that they’d been safe. Melissa had been trying to protect them both and he knew that, but all the moving around seemed excessive and they always stayed right under the radar. He’d gotten complacent and cocky in that way young men do, thinking he was invincible. It was his fault that she was dead and he ended up in chains. “Do you think we could do stuff like that? I mean, I haven’t been to school in a long time. I never even finished high school, dude, and my skills aren’t really marketable. Well…not any ones I’d like to use. Not that I’d mind hot nurses in any context, imaginary or not.”

____

Stiles swallowed audibly, and it was overwhelming sometimes. If he allowed himself to think about it, he didn’t know how Scott could find it in himself to get up in the morning. It hadn’t been all bad, the werewolf had claimed. Stiles had 38 long days to turn that over in his head.

"Hell yeah, dude," he scoffed, but the words came out in a soft murmur. "When you’re… In doubt. Just remember. May the force be with you." He did not need to bring up those summers (multiple summers, many long summers) where he tried to teach Scott the useful aspects of writing in Arubesh, before Scott had even seen the Star Wars movies. Mostly, those sessions ended with someone doubled over laughing, or with a bruise he got ‘tripping over the sidewalk.’ It seemed they had so much time in those days. Stiles hated to think that they’d wasted it by not doing this.

He growled theatrically, rolling them over and burying his face in Scott’s chest so he could blow an angry raspberry into his skin. “Watch your face. Any hot nurses have to be vetted by me.” He looked up at Scott from where he had him trapped, his chin on his chest, the barest of smiles teasing his features. His hair was still too long. He tugged the closest strand before it could fall into Scott’s face, and decided he would love him for as long as he could breathe. “If you go back, you’ll kill it. You were totally the smartest dude there. If you weren’t staring at my - mouth, you’d have been valedictorian.”

He waited a beat, then, “Mouth, really dude? Really?” 

___

“I know that’s a Star Wars thing, you nerd.” Scott tweaked Stiles’s nipple through his shirt. It wasn’t that he had purposely avoided it, not at first anyways. It seemed like an okay movie, but he just never really sat down to watch it. When he realized how much it annoyed Stiles, it became almost a challenge to see how long he could go before he would inevitably be forced into an all night movie marathon with Jedi and lightsabers and eating too many snacks until they felt sick in the morning. When he and his mom and left, Scott couldn’t bring himself to watch the movies alone. It just didn’t feel right, he’d made a promise.

He yelped and laughed, sliding his hands down Stiles’s back and tucking them into his human’s pants to give his ass a squeeze. “Why, you’re gonna keep the hottest ones for yourself? If anyone’s getting a hot nurse, it’s the one who’s stuck in a crazy lycanthrope hospital. I feel like I’ve earned it.” Scott grinned out from under too long bangs, looking younger than he had a right to. “Smartest dude? You have us confused, I was kind of a slacker and you can’t argue that. I didn’t have your drive and I wasn’t as smart as Lydia Martin. I was barely getting by most of the time, but I’m willing to try this time.” As long as he didn’t have to take math or anything. Ugh.

Scott stared at Stiles in shock before bursting out with laughter, kissing the corner of Stiles’s mouth. “Are you even serious right now? You really have no idea you do it, do you? God, you stick literally _everything_ in your mouth, dude. You play with it all the time and I just can’t. I can fucking not. And it’s not just that, it’s your hands and your eyes and your shoulders and the way you laugh. Maybe I was distracted by a lot of thing, but I was a walking teenage hormone. You can’t blame me! And you, you raging asshole, I find you again after 11 years and within 48 hours I have that mouth on my dick and what am I even supposed to do?!”

___

Stiles squawked, all false indignation and flailing limbs as he rubbed his chest with exaggerated hurt.

His laugh, god his laugh, and if Stiles was a poet, he’d probably compare it to the fluttering of angel wings, but it was obnoxious and un-self-conscious and kind of brayed at the end in a way that Stiles always thought was caused by his asthma. Apparently it was just a Scott thing. Stiles loved him.

"Why don’t you put it back in, and you can figure something out?" He smirked, aiming for lewd but mostly coming off smug. He smacked a kiss back, lips pursed in a way of selfies and references that Scott had unfortunately missed. He’d have to get him on that train soon. Stiles would care more about it, if he wasn’t making their next kiss last, licking his way into his partner’s mouth and taking stock of its every inch.

"And who gave you permission to touch the butt, huh, Scotty? If you pinch things, better make them count," he huffed, pressing bullshit complaints into velvet skin. Snickers curled along his gut, making everything seem light, and this felt too much like a game that they were cheating, a game they were still winning. "Don’t start things you can’t finish - ‘specially if you don’t plan on sharing the hot nurses. That’s just messed up, dude."

It was too easy to settle like this, tangled as close as he could get to his best friend. Stiles let himself drift, the promise of tomorrow more powerful than any spell, and there was so much wrong in their world, but he couldn’t stop smiling. “Hey Scott… after all this, would you want to visit the places? The ones you saw. i want to hear what you wanted to tell me the first time around.”

____

Scott raised both eyebrows in mock indignation.  “Dude, seriously? You think I’m that easy?” His protests were swallowed in Stiles’s kiss and he made it clear that yeah, he really was that easy. At least when it came to his best friend that he loved with the whole of his heart. He kneaded his hands into Stiles’s ass unrepentantly. “It’s mine, dude. Don’t make me mark it, I totally will just in case anybody else gets thoughts about touching it. I promise you, I plan on finishing everything I start and there’s no way I’m sharing. Hot nurses are a commodity, bro. You have you get your own.”

He wasn’t sure what was better, the relaxed sprawl of their bodies close together or hitching his hips the tiniest bit against Stiles’s leg still trapped between his thighs. “A road trip?” That ended the debate and he raised his head to stare at his friend, completely surprised by the idea. “Like we should have done after we graduated high school. _Dude_ , that is an awesome idea! We spent a lot of time in the southwest, but we made it all the way through New Orleans once, that was awesome. Super freaky though, we thought that they might have a place for lycanthropes that was safe but they don’t really trust outsiders. We even spent a couple of weeks in Atlanta when one of the hunter families got too close and we hand to run all the way to the east coast.”

This was a great idea. There were so many things he’d wanted to show Stiles and so many places he wished he could have seen without having to hide and lay low all the time. It would be safe with Stiles, he was a cop and Scott wasn’t a novice were who didn’t know how to shift anymore. “We have to do this. Tell me we can do this.”

A soft knock on the doorway interrupted them and Scott scowled at the orderly who gestured to his watch. Visiting hours were over and after Scott’s suicide attempt, they weren’t willing to budge on the rules. Scott couldn’t keep himself from baring his teeth, but pulled back the flare of rage with an angry sigh. “Come back tomorrow. I’ll be okay, I promise. I don’t want to give them a reason to keep you away.” He kissed Stiles possessively, making it a show for the orderlies so no one would get any ideas before reluctantly letting him go. “Tomorrow.”

___

"Does that mean-" That was as far as Stiles got. Then he was being kissed to within an inch of his life. The world would never experience the joy of his wit. That didn’t matter when Scott was sucking on his tongue like he needed it more than air.

Stiles was grinning at him when he pulled away, smiling in that helplessly dopey way he’d reserved for Scott. He didn’t know he’d been hiding it all these years, but it was worth it.

"Tomorrow," He agreed. The orderly totally rolled his eyes on the way out. Stiles’ mouth looked like it had been wrecked.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing collaborative work/RP that has been fic-i-fied!
> 
> You can find Tmautog's awesome fics on [tumblr](http://tmautog.tumblr.com/tagged/writing) and keep up with this story [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune/TruebornAlpha [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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